


Like Ocean in the Desert

by SaenaLife



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, GIEPP, Girl In Every Port Project, Oral Sex, POV Dean, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-18
Updated: 2015-06-18
Packaged: 2018-04-04 22:33:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4155480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaenaLife/pseuds/SaenaLife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Baby needs some work before Dean can get back on the road.  He went to the salvage yard for parts, but what he found was a human connection.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Ocean in the Desert

**Author's Note:**

> This is my fic for the Girl In Every Port Project (GIEPP) run by winchestersinthedrift.tumblr.com. My prompt was "parts girl at the salvage yard". I went over the word count limit (by about 800 words), but I couldn't help myself! I just write until the story's done, I hope you won't hold it against me.
> 
> As always, I don't own anything from the Supernatural canon, everything else is mine.
> 
> Hope you like it!

 

**SEDONA, ARIZONA**

 

 _Son of a bitch!_ Dean stared down at the piece of wet cardboard he'd just pulled from under the Impala's engine. There was a leak. Throwing open the hood, he tugged on the water pump pulley, and sure enough, it was loose. Probably a bad bearing. He was gonna have to fix it before he could make the drive through two state's worth of mid-August temperatures to pick up Sam on the way back to Bobby's place. Great, one more fuckin' annoyance on a job full of them! At least he'd managed to take down that werewolf, but it had been a close thing for a minute there. Dean was just glad Sam had had an easier time of it with what sounded like a run-of-the-mill haunting.

Glancing at his watch, Dean realized he had to get moving if he was gonna hit the road in the morning. He'd automatically noticed the salvage yard on his way into town, a habit picked up from years of exactly this kind of situation. Places like that usually closed by six and it was almost quarter 'til now. He climbed into the driver's seat and started the engine, wincing when he heard the telltale grinding noise that said he definitely needed a new water pump. Maybe he shouldn't have had the music up so loud that last 500 miles, he might have caught this earlier. Gritting his teeth, Dean ignored the sound and pulled out of the motel parking lot, intent on finding what he needed.

The open sign was still lit when Dean pulled into the salvage yard ten minutes later, but there was no one in sight.

“Hello?” he hollered through the open garage door into the shop. “Anybody home?”

“Be right there, just a sec.” A woman's voice sounded from the back of the shop.

Moments later, she appeared, wiping dirty hands on a greasy rag, and something shifted in Dean, some primal awareness that pushed its way to the front of his brain. He couldn't say why - she wasn't his usual type. Not that she was unattractive at all. He just normally went for the thin, dark haired chicks and she was the opposite of that. _Lush._ The word meandered through his mind as she approached.

“What can I do for you?” Her voice was low and just slightly husky and Dean swore he felt it reverberate up his spine. He sifted through his jumbled thoughts until he found the relevant information. Man, she had him rattled!

“Yeah, uh, I really need a new water pump. Tonight.” The bandana she'd tied over her hair had obviously lost its battle to control the unruly mass of blonde curls hours ago. Dean tried not to stare as she shoved the hair out of her eyes with a pointed look at the clock, which now stood at five minutes to closing time. He rushed to plead his case. “Please, I know it's late, but I can't stay in town more than one night, I'm on my way to pick up my brother. I knew Baby was runnin' kinda hot, but I didn't think it was this bad...”

“Baby? Did you name your car Baby?” She interrupted him with a smile that lit up her face and he found himself momentarily distracted by the smudge of oil on her cheek. Why was that so damn hot?

Obscurely embarrassed, Dean hedged a little. “Well, no, not officially, just something I say sometimes.”

“What model? She must be special to warrant such affection.” Her tone was teasing, but her brown eyes were kind.

“ '67 Impala.”

Straightening abruptly, she dropped the rag on the counter. “No shit.” She moved toward the door, peering out into the late afternoon light. Spotting the Impala, gleaming black and sexy, she let out a long low whistle that sent a jolt of lust through Dean as he followed her.

Oblivious to his reaction, she circled the car, looking it over, trailing one hand just above the surface as if she could feel the life force emanating from the still warm metal. Completing her circuit, she turned a sharp eye on Dean and he felt the weight of her evaluation. Nodding once in decision, she returned to where he stood in the doorway.

“She's a real beauty and it's obvious that you treat her right. Devotion like that should be rewarded.” She waved a hand vaguely toward the front gate. “Let me just close the shop and then we'll dig up a new water pump for you.”

“That's great! Thanks a lot... what's your name, by the way? I'm Dean.” He held out his hand, hoping it wasn't sweaty.

She shook it. “I'm Alex. Good to meet you, Dean.” Her eyes sparkled. “Baby, too.”

**********

Fifteen minutes later, Alex set a new/used water pump on the counter next to the cash register. Smiling up at Dean, she commented, “You know, we're both lucky I found one of these on the shelf. Coulda taken a while to pull a good one otherwise. Call it thirty, even.”

Handing over the cash, Dean wished he could stay in town longer. He'd been too startled at his own reaction to hit on her first thing, and now it felt kinda awkward. Ever since he walked in, Dean had felt like a hormone-swamped teenager when he looked at her, but Alex hadn't given the slightest sign that she even noticed him, much less felt similarly. She couldn't stop talking about the Impala, though, which actually made the whole thing hotter.

Before he could decide to just _ask her the fuck out,_ Alex frowned up at him. “You said you're in town for one night? Where are you gonna do the work?”

“Motel parking lot, I guess.” Dean shrugged. Except when he had the luxury of Bobby's garage, that's where he did all the Impala's maintenance.

“Hell, you'll get it done faster and better if you just pull into the garage and do it here.”

“I can't keep you here that late.” _Why am I arguing?_ Dean kicked himself mentally, but kept asking stupid questions. “Besides, won't your boss get mad?”

Chuckling, she pointed to the sign on the counter that read “Make Checks Payable to Alexandria Salvage” and then tapped the front of her mechanic's jumpsuit where it said “Alex” in flowing script. “Honey, I _am_ the boss. I do what I want. And to be honest, I can't think of a better way to spend a Saturday night than under the hood of that car, if you'll let me work on her.”

It was the one thing that could have made Dean hesitate. No one worked on Baby but family. On the other hand, it would be a lot easier to do the work in a garage and he'd be right here the whole time. Bonus, he'd get to spend more time with Alex.

The whole train of thought went through Dean's brain in a split-second and then he was smiling down at her. “Sure! You'd really be doin' me a favor.” He gave her his most dazzling smile, the one with the intense eyes that made most of the women he met forget what they were saying. “Why don't I buy you dinner to show my gratitude?”

“Great idea! I'm starving. I'll call Gino's on the corner.” Alex grabbed the phone off the counter, hitting number 3 on the speed dial before Dean could ask what Gino's was. He opened his mouth, but she held up one finger with a smile as the line was picked up. “¡Hola Carlos! ¿Como estás? Bien, bien. Yeah, need a pie, working late again.” She paused, listening, then laughed, a full honest laugh that made Dean smile along with her. His smile slipped, though, when Alex's voice turned flirtatious. “If I had a man at home, I wouldn't be here talking to you. I don't want anybody if I can't have you, Carlos.” Another pause, another little laugh. “Alright, alright, enough of that! I'm working and so are you. Uh-huh, the usual...” she glanced over at Dean, “actually, make it an extra large and you better only put the pineapple on half.” Pause. “Nah, I'll have someone pick it up. Gracias, Carlos. Hasta luego.”

Desperately trying to stifle his jealous suspicion of Carlos ( _probably 19, hard-bodied and gorgeous_ ), Dean plastered a smile on his face to meet her when she turned back from the phone. Alex returned the smile, slightly puzzled. “Pizza'll be ready in 20 minutes or so. Enough time to start pulling that old water pump. Why don't you bring her in here and we'll get to work?”

“Sure thing,” he replied and soon Baby was sitting under the harsh fluorescent lights. Alex moved around to the front of the car as Dean got out. She looked through the jumble of tools and supplies that crowded the available space, then glanced over at Dean.

“Hey, would you mind grabbing the drain pan that's on the counter to your left in there?” She nodded at the door to the back room that stood open behind Dean. As he disappeared, Alex laid a hand on the Impala's hood. When he heard her voice, Dean paused just inside the door, thinking she was talking to him for a second before he realized her low murmur wasn't really meant for his ears.

“Hi there, Baby. I'm Alex, I'm gonna be working on you today.” Dean heard the sound of the hood being lifted. “We're gonna get you fixed up and you'll be back on the open road in no time.” He had to smile to himself as he grabbed the pan and headed back to the garage. She might be crazy, but she was his kind of crazy.

 **********

At first, Dean had tried to share the work, but it wasn't really a two-person job. Quickly, he began to feel that he was intruding on Alex's work-flow. She didn't say anything, but he saw her jaw tighten the second time their hands collided reaching for the same tool. He was actually glad when she looked at the clock and reminded him that the pizza was probably ready.

On the walk to the corner, Dean shook his head in bafflement. He couldn't figure out why he felt so awkward around Alex. Was it just that he was completely fascinated by her and she hadn't shown the least bit of personal interest in him? He might have thought that she didn't like guys, but he'd seen the pin-up fireman calendar above her desk. It wasn't a guarantee, but seemed to point in the right direction. Was his ego really so big that a straight woman who didn't immediately warm up to him totally threw him off his game? In a moment of rare self-honesty, Dean had to admit that it might be.

At the pizzeria, Carlos turned out to be 72 if he was a day, bent with rheumatism, hair and mustache gone beyond salt and pepper to silver white years ago. Dean was so glad that his imaginary competition didn't exist that he listened with every appearance of seriousness when Carlos gave him a piercing, suspicious look over the pizza box, chef's knife in hand, and intoned his warning.

“That Alex, she's a good girl, she works hard and she cares about people. I don't like her alone in that place with a strange man, so I'm telling you now, if something bad happens to her, you'll have an enemy you don't want. ¿Entiendes?”

“I hear you. I promise, I ain't gonna hurt her.” Dean's face and voice were sincere and Carlos examined him for another second before humphing and waving him to the door 

“You better not, extraño.”

As he strolled into the open garage, pizza in hand, Dean could hear Alex singing softly to herself. He strained to hear what the song was. It sounded familiar; what was it? Then she hit the chorus and he had it. Creedence - _Have You Ever Seen The Rain?_. Great song, and she wasn't doing half bad with it.

When she heard Dean's boots on the concrete, Alex set her wrench down on the cloth laid over the Impala's paint job. Straightening with an automatic push at her hair, she went into the back room, reappearing with two cold beers, droplets already condensing on the glass. They sat and munched companionably, talking about not much, neither one really ready to delve too deeply into personal territory.

“So you like CCR, huh?” Dean took a long pull from his beer.

“Love 'em. They were one of my dad's favorites. You?”

“Yeah, them, Zepp, AC/DC, all the classic stuff. All my dad's favorites.” He echoed her words with a smile and the memory of pain in his eyes. “So what else do you listen to?”

“Lots of stuff. Anything with good lyrics I can sing along to, mostly. I'll sing my guts out to Patsy Cline or Aretha Franklin.”

“I don't listen to chick singers a lot.”

Alex narrowed her eyes playfully at him. “Oooh, you are so in for it now.” Wiping her hands on her jumpsuit, she hopped down from her perch on the counter and headed to the tired old boom box in the corner. “You obviously need to broaden your horizons.” Pulling out a stack of cds, she flipped though them. “Who should we listen to? Edith Piaf? Maybe Billie Holiday? Poe?” She looked up at Dean consideringly. “Do you know Fiona Apple?”

With a bemused look, Dean responded. “What's a fiona apple? Can you make it into a pie?”

“Ha ha, you're hilarious. She's a singer and this is one of my favorite albums of all time. It's basically full of torch songs. We're going to listen to it all the way through and I want you to really pay attention, to the lyrics and the melodies and the way she uses her voice.”

He shrugged. “Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole.”

“I'm gonna take that as an agreement.” Alex put the cd in and hit the play button. As the first bass-filled notes floated through the air, she picked up the wrench and leaned down under the hood again.

Dean kicked back, finishing his last slice of pizza and watching the quiet competence of Alex's hands as she went about her work. At first, she sang along softly, but soon she was belting out the fast and complicated lyrics. He could see that this was how Alex usually worked, music blasting, singing along at full volume. It was almost as if, in the sheer enjoyment of what she was doing, she had forgotten that she wasn't alone. Dean didn't mind that, it was unexpectedly relaxing to watch an obviously skilled mechanic in action.

It didn't hurt his enjoyment that she was gorgeous, but the thing that really jump-started the slow burn of lust in his belly was the look of absorbed pleasure on Alex's face as she went about extracting the damaged water pump. Dean kept imagining that look on her face in other situations and had to shift in his chair as his cock started to harden.

The bitch of it was, he couldn't get a read on her, had no idea how she would react if he made a move. Dean wasn't big on making unwanted advances. If Alex had given any kind of indication that she found him attractive, he'd have risked it. As it was, he was pretty sure he knew who would be on his mind when he climbed into that crappy motel bed alone tonight. In the meantime, he figured he'd sit here, watch her work, and keep his thoughts and his hands to himself, like a good boy. Dean fucking hated being a good boy.

He kinda liked the Fiona Apple album though, (what little had made it into his sex-clogged brain), although he wasn't entirely sure it was the music and not just listening to Alex sing. At his request, she put on Creedence next and they chatted off and on while the music played. He learned that she had bought the salvage yard just over a year ago when she moved to town, but beyond that, Alex was surprisingly evasive about where she had moved from or anything else about her past. Shrugging internally, Dean figured that he, of all people, should be able to respect her need for privacy.

The sun was just starting to set, streaming in through the open garage door in gold ribbons as Dean turned the key in the ignition. He listened with pleasure to the smooth rumble of the engine, no hint of the earlier grinding sound. Shutting it down and climbing out, he grinned at Alex where she stood leaning against the counter, depositing another smear of grime on her forehead as she pushed the hair out of her face for the hundredth time.

“Good as new! Thanks Alex, I really appreciate this.” Dean dropped the Impala's hood into place, glancing up as a reflection caught his eye. It was a low ray of sunlight that had fallen onto Alex's face as she stood behind him, illuminating her in the dark windshield. His brain blanked for half a second when he recognized the look in her eyes as she covertly studied him. It was pure, unadulterated, fresh-from-the-mountain-spring _lust_.

“Ah-ha!” He whirled to face her with a triumphant grin. “I saw that look!”

Caught, the expression on Alex's face was unrepentant, but both her cheeks and her eyes heated and Dean found himself captivated by that combination of bashful and bold. “What? I'm not allowed to look?”

He closed the distance between them, coming to stand in front of her, but not yet touching her. “To be honest, Alex, right now you're pretty much allowed to do anything you want.”

Her breath hitched and Dean could see an infinitesimal softening in her posture that distracted him so much he had to force himself to process the words falling from her full lips. “I'm not in the habit of sleeping with customers, Dean, no matter how hot they are or what car they drive. It's hard enough running this business as a woman, I don't need that kind of reputation to go with it.”

“I get it, I do. It's just that,” Dean reached up and, without breaking eye contact, slowly pulled the bandana from her hair and dropped it to the floor, giving Alex plenty of time to object, “... been wantin' to do this all night.”

Yielding to the urge to touch him, she pressed her palms to Dean's muscular chest, clutching fistfuls of his shirt as he pushed his hands into the thick silk of her hair. “Me, too.” Alex swayed into him, lifting her mouth to his.

The kiss was explosive, rocking Dean down to his foundations. He dragged one arm to her waist, pulling her tight against him. With a small sound of pleasure, Alex molded her body to his, sliding her arms around his neck and biting his lower lip. It sent his pulse racing even higher and he suddenly couldn't breathe for wanting her.

He pulled back, gazing down at her flushed cheeks and eyes gone a dark with passion. “My motel is ten minutes from here.”

Alex shook her head. “Hm-mmm,” she murmured, already pulling his lips down to hers again, “here. Now.” She pushed against him, never breaking the kiss, backing him up until his legs pressed against the Impala's grill and he half-sat on the hood. Only then did she release his mouth and take a half step back, kicking out of her shoes and reaching for the zipper at her neck. With an enigmatic smile, she pulled on it and Dean couldn't take his eyes from the slow descent. He inhaled sharply when she let the blue fabric drop to the floor and there was nothing underneath but pale skin and black lace.

“Surprised there's a woman under the grease?” Alex's voice was confident, but there was a guarded look in her eyes that told Dean plenty of people had made assumptions about her based on her work.

“No, just wondering if I'm dreaming, “ he said truthfully as he reached out for her, pulling her into his arms to stand between his legs, hungrily searching out her mouth with his own.

Everything about her filled Dean's senses. The smell of motor oil and clean sweat and a hint of shampoo drifting from her loosened hair. The taste of her mouth, beer and spice of pepperoni, with something else, something indefinably unique to her. And the sounds she made drove him wild, soft sighs and catches of breath and sweet low moans. More than all of that, the way she felt against him, strong and soft and silky all at the same time.

Alex broke off the kiss, but didn't go far, nuzzling into Dean's neck, breathing his smell in before pressing her open lips to the sensitive spot just below his ear. “Need skin.” Her voice was throaty and he shivered as her fingers began to work feverishly at the buttons of his shirt. She pushed it back off his shoulders, nibbling and licking at his collarbone the moment it came into view, running her hands across his bare chest and around to smooth over his back as she pressed her skin to his, feasting on his neck and jawline.

Groaning, Dean tightened his arms around her as Alex's mouth fed the fire in his blood. As amazing as it was, finally he could resist no more; he _had_ to taste her skin. He pressed one large hand to her breast, squeezing and massaging through the lace of her bra, twisting lightly at the nipple, making her gasp and toss her head back. Dean took advantage of the increased access, setting his mouth to her neck and skilfully echoing her own actions.

Her response was immediate. With a soft, sharp cry, Alex clutched at his broad shoulders, her entire body drawing up against him even more fiercely. A little stunned at her responsiveness to even that small intimacy, Dean was suddenly greedy for more. He wanted to taste all of her, to find out how she would react as he devoured every inch of her.

His nimble fingers made short work of the clasp of her bra and Dean pulled back just enough to slide it free of her arms and toss it to the side before he pressed his lips to her delicate skin. Alex arched back as he took one nipple into his mouth, suckling lightly and then with increasing fervor as she shuddered against him. Her nails dug into his shoulders and he glanced up as he moved to her other breast. Her head was thrown back, eyes closed and lips parted, seemingly lost to the tide of sensation running through her. So fuckin' beautiful!

She tasted as good as she looked and one word thundered through his brain. _More!_ Following that instinct, Dean hooked his thumbs into the scrap of black lace she still wore, tugging the panties down as he slid both hands over her ass, kneading her flesh as he hauled her even more tightly against his hard and ready cock. Then with a deft move, he neatly pivoted Alex so that their positions were reversed, boosting her to sit, thighs parted, on the edge of the hood.

Dean returned to her mouth, momentarily surrendering to the sheer passion of her kisses, before slowly working his way down her neck, over her collarbone, to revel again in the fullness of her breasts. After a few moments, he slid one hand down the back of Alex's thigh to her knee, gently lifting it and urging her to set her foot on the bumper. Shivering with understanding, she complied, setting both feet in place, knees wide, as Dean sank to his knees in one fluid motion. Alex braced herself back on one hand, pushing the other into Dean's hair, gripping tight as he pressed his mouth to her soaking pussy.

Fragments of memory flooded his brain as the salt-taste of her flowed over his tongue – sea spray on his lips in a Cape Cod nor'easter; splashing into the waves under a San Diego pier, pushed by a wraith. ... _like ocean in the desert._ Groaning at the thought, Dean was gripped by a driving urge to make her come, to feel her spill into his mouth, as a faint echo of _(More!)_ pulsed in the back of his brain.

He was attuned to every sound Alex made, every tug on his hair and scrape of her nails, every shift and buck of her body under his rapturous attentions, and he responded to it all. Her cries echoed off concrete and steel as Dean used his hands, his mouth, and his considerable skill to propel her unrelentingly toward her climax.

At his initial onslaught, Alex had cried out and lain back on the hood, the metal cool against her fevered skin as she surged against him. Now, she arched up, shouting his name, hips rolling against his mouth. Pressing one arm low on her belly to hold her in place, Dean caught at her juices with long slow swipes of his tongue up the length of her pussy, drawing out her orgasm as long as possible with light circles around her clit at the top of each stroke.

When he finally pulled back and stood, Alex pushed herself up, dragging him against her. Her arms and legs snaked around him and she moaned into his ear. “More, I want more...” Capturing his mouth, she ground her dripping center against the by now almost painful erection straining against the denim of his jeans. (Two days from now, doing laundry at Bobby's house, Dean will get a hard-on at the lingering smell of sex on them and the memory of this moment.) She nibbled on his lip and pulled back to look up at him. “I have condoms in my purse.”

“Got one right here.” Dean hooked his wallet out of a back pocket.

“Mmm, that's better,” Alex murmured, dropping her legs from his waist in order to unfasten his jeans and push them down, freeing his heavy cock. Humming with pleasure, she ran one hand down over the flushed head, slowly working up and down the length. Dean's knees threatened to buckle and he closed his eyes, condom momentarily forgotten. She licked her lips. “I want to taste you."

Hearing the words, Dean involuntarily thrust hard into her hand, groaning at the temptation. But he didn't want to wait to feel the slick, hot tightness of her cunt enveloping him, to feel her inner muscles clamp down on him. “Later,” he growled, tearing open the condom package and swiftly sliding the rubber into place. He could see the agreement in her eyes as he pressed forward between thighs that opened wide to welcome him.

Using the last slim shards of his restraint, he ran the head of his cock back and forth through her folds, watching her eyes slide closed at the sensation. The expression on Alex's face was one of intense focus, as if nothing existed in the world except what was happening right now, in this moment. It was a more intense version of the look Dean had daydreamed about earlier and he was mesmerized.

“Dean, please...” At Alex's whispered appeal, Dean lost the battle to curb his own desires and he finally plunged his cock into her with one smooth stroke. Their voices rose together in gasping cries at the overwhelming sense of connection when he pressed against her back wall. Biting his lip, Dean dropped his head to her shoulder and froze there, body bowed with the strain of keeping still, knowing that if he gave himself free reign now, it would be over far too quickly.

Beyond caring about anything but the demands of her body, Alex whimpered and undulated against him, begging wordlessly for Dean to move within her. It was too much to fight and Dean gave in, snapping his hips back and driving into her over and over. Immediately, she convulsed around him with a low, wordless wail of satisfaction, rocking forward to meet every thrust.

When Dean thought about it later, given the intensity of their mutual desire, he was actually kind of proud to have lasted something like three minutes before his orgasm roared through him. He stiffened against Alex with a strangled shout, feeling her internal muscles clench and squeeze, pulling every last fragment of pleasure out of him before he collapsed against her.

They clung to each other for a minute, struggling to catch their breath, the evening breeze drifting over their sweat-slicked skin. Drowsily turning her head, Alex pressed her lips and tongue to the salt of his neck.

“That was fantastic,” she said with a half-disbelieving laugh.

“Fantastic is an understatement. Starting with this...” Smirking a little, Dean reached out and snagged her bra from where it lay on the hood next to them. He raised an eyebrow at her. “You always dress this sexy for work?”

Alex raised a brow back. “That's just the everyday stuff, sexy has its own drawer at home.” With a grin at the expression on his face, she continued. “And no, there's usually clothes to go with it, but it's been hot as hell this week.”

Dean's voice held an unmistakeable note of sincerity when he muttered, “Thank god for global warming,” on his way to press his mouth to hers again.

**********

Something startled Dean out of his doze and he tensed, alert for any threat. He lay in the back of the Impala, head cushioned on a wad of their clothes, Alex draped over him, precariously perched on the edge of the seat. She shifted against him and her soft voice floated through the darkness. “The lights went out. Sometimes I forget to turn them off, so I put them on a motion detector with an hour timer.”

Her hand smoothed across his chest as she spoke. Dean had noticed that when she wasn't asleep, her hands were constantly moving over him, exploring without necessarily intending to arouse. Having been starved for truly affectionate touch most of his life, Dean drank it in, storing it up in his sense memory against future drought.

His arm tightened around Alex and he cleared his throat around a sudden lump before he spoke. “So why'd you make an exception to your “no customer hook-ups” rule? If it wasn't my hotness or my car?” There was laughter in his voice, but she raised up to look at him with serious eyes, just visible in the light from the streetlamp.

“Because, Dean, I know a lonely soul when I see one.” Sliding one hand into his hair, she drew him to her, whispering against his mouth, “Like attracts like.” Their lips met and all conscious thought ceased for a long while.

**********

Dawn was just breaking, the momentarily soft and fresh breeze carrying the sounds of early birds to where Dean and Alex stood next to the Impala, entwined in each other's arms and mouths. Reluctantly pulling away, he looked down into her eyes. “I wish I didn't have to go, but my brother's waiting.”

She nodded. “I wish you could stay, too, but I understand.” Squeezing his hand, Alex looked up at him with an solemnly earnest expression. “Listen, Dean, I don't know any more about your life than you do mine, but I can tell from looking at Baby that you travel a lot, maybe all the time. I know what that's like, how it can make you feel rootless and lost sometimes. For whatever it's worth to you, I want you to know that you have a friend here. Consider this a safe place if you ever need somewhere to land. You're welcome anytime you're in the neighborhood.” Amusement filtered into her eyes then. “And if you ever decide to sell Baby, I'd give her a good home, I promise.”

“Fat fuckin' chance! I'm never sellin' Baby!” The fun in Dean's eyes belied his exasperated tone and he laughed a little as he pulled her back into another kiss.

This time, it was Alex who pulled away, flushed and breathing heavily. “If you don't get out of here soon, I just won't unlock the gate and you'll have to stay here.”

He groaned into her hair. “Don't tempt me.”

With a visible effort, she pushed gently away from Dean's chest, turning toward the car and laying one hand on the hood. “It was an honor to work on you, Baby. I hope we meet again.”

Reminded of the previous evening, Dean had to ask. “Do you talk to all the cars you work on?”

Alex looked at him for a second as if he'd missed something obvious. “Of course not. Not all cars have a soul, but this one does.” She peered up at him. “You know that better than anyone, don't you?”

Dean shook his head in bemused acknowledgment. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

“Alright, then let's get you on the road before I change my mind.” Suddenly, she was brisk and businesslike, but he could detect a wistful sadness in her eyes.

Taking her face in his hands, Dean bent down and slanted his mouth over hers in a kiss that was so giving and tender, it brought tears to Alex's eyes. Looking down at her, he promised, “We'll see each other again, Alex. I'll make sure of it.”

She nodded mutely, unable to speak for the moment around an unexpected catch in her throat. Stepping back as Dean got into the driver's seat, she headed for the front gate. Unlocking it with fumbling fingers, she turned to see him pull the Impala up to idle next to her. Leaning down, Alex kissed him softly.

“Take care of yourself, Dean.”

“You, too, Alex.”

Then he let off the brakes, slowly rolling forward through the gate and out onto the unpaved road. She stood there, watching until the Impala was obscured by the cloud of dust, before turning back to face her own life, closing the gate behind her.

**********

**Author's Note:**

> Why is it that everything I write makes me want to write a sequel? It's maddening (in a really good way). Anyway, this little story started out kind of "I don't know...", but I found myself really liking the end product. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! Comments, questions, critiques are always welcome!


End file.
